The Fiend Of Beauty Poem by chew cheng yew
The Fiend Of Beauty
I'm here holding-
an urn once again with-
my bare hands of shed blood,
standing within the forest dark.
The bridge to the Ravishing Valley-
is seen no more seeing that my destiny-
is sealed by the testament of the merciless-
irresistible being.
'The Phantom of Beauty is always the deception-
of tempational desires as souls will always be teared from
from.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 12:40:54 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A great story with great sentiments, keep on writing.